


You Twist, I Turn, Who's The First To Burn?

by MikiJanuary



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (but he doesn't know it), Alex is L I T, Alexander is a witch, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Are Alex and Laf fucking?, Are Alex and Laf very good bros?, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Blood and Violence, Bullying, Burns, Cutting, Demisexual Hercules Mulligan, Drowning, Eliza Kicks Ass, Eliza is a witch, F/F, Gay John Laurens, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Hanging, Highschool AU, Implied/Referenced Torture, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, James is a witch, John Lamsay is Confused, Kissing in the Rain, Kissing in the Snow, Lafayette is a smart man (he'll be fine), M/M, Magic fighting, Mariah Kicks Ass, Mariah is a witch, Minor Injuries, Monsters, Multi, Other, Pansexual Marquis de Lafayette, Past Character Death, Past Mayor Character Death, Past Period-Typical Homophobia, Past Period-Typical Sexism, Past Witch Huntings, Relationship Goals, So lemme get this straight, Spells & Enchantments, Spirits, Spoiler Alert - Freeform, The Hanging Tree, The Nice Hamilsquad: John Lafayette and Hercules, The Sassy Hamilsquad: Thomas and James, Theodosia is a witch, They Never Fought In The Revolution, Were Alex and Laf dating?, What Is Alexander Harlem Up To: the novel, Witch AU, Witch Curses, alexander needs a Hug, but not really, dear lord im so sorry, ha ha, hell yeah, i guess we could say, it all sounds so bad it's not that dark i swear, turns into:, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-02-11 01:21:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12924276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikiJanuary/pseuds/MikiJanuary
Summary: "Alexander Harlem.", the boy introduced himself, a smirk on his lipsJohn nodded."John Lamsay.", he paused, looking at him in the eye- he had dark yet bright eyes, like coals, "Thank you for saving me. You didn't have to, really."The boy- Alexander snorted."Yeah, right.", the lights flicked on again, making John jump"How'd you do that?"Alexander stretched his arms, his back popping lightly."Dunno whachya talkin' about.", he practically yawned, then turned around and-Left.





	1. Not In The Place To Be

John Lamsay left the suitcase in the house's hall (mansion, it was huge, more than his old house, also dirtier) still to be filled with their family's stuff.  
They had moved. Completely. From South Carolina to a small town in the middle of the mountains, kilometer "x", road to "no where".

Saint Cross.

He sighed and took a moment to exasperate himself, thinking of everything he had left behind in his old house, of everything he had lost by moving into this stupid town.

His negative aura did not stop Henry Junior, his little brother, from slipping between his legs, John jumping at the sudden movement. He was being chased by Martha, his other sister, older than HJ, younger than John.  
Martha was shouting something about her mobile phone, while HJ ran with ... Martha's cell phone in his hands.

His mother's voice made him turn around.

"Jacky! Come help me with the suitcases, please."

John sighed, going down the steep and high stairs of 34 King Street, with hurried but careful steps. Who knew how many bones could break when falling down those stairs (and how far the nearest hospital would be - a real hospital, not the den he had seen a couple of streets back).

He picked up Martha's violet suitcase and Herny's dark blue one, decorated with scribbled green dinosaurs, and climbed them back up the stairs. He repeated that with a couple more suitcases, and soon the entrance was filled with the luggage of the Lamsay family.

The mansion was not abandoned per se. John had been told that the company had been responsible for keeping the house more or less decent, but that the manager had become terribly ill, and had not been able to continue with her work, afew months ago. So, yes, there was some dust, and some other spider web. But, apart from that, nothing.

John turned around, looking at the almost deserted street.

Within a week, he would start school, and he didn't want that. At all.

He wanted to go back to Charlestown. He wanted to go back to his old friends.

And he wanted to go back to Francis.

He supposed that not everything went as he wanted, and that he had to give up some things, but still. He let out another sigh.

Martha appeared through the door frame.

"Stop crying for your boyfriend, I've lost my best friend."

John frowned, and climbed the stairs, grumbling, until he reached what he decided it would be his room.

He threw himself on the bed and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. No messages from Francis. Eight from Martha Manning.

He read with curiosity the messages from who was his best friend, before answering her with a couple of memes, and throwing the cell phone on the bed. He turned around, and closed his eyes.

After two minutes, he was asleep.


	2. My Name Is--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander had always known.  
> Maybe that was the reason why he always felt so lonely.

* * *

_, but that didn't stop Alexander, it never stopped Alexander._

_John guessed that nothing ever could stop Alexander. Or so he had thought._

_Alexander, on the other hand, was midly afraid of this, of what was happening._

_He was going to be gone, and Lord knows how long would it take for him to see John again. John Laurens._

_Didn't he look devasting? With tears in his eyes, his pale face red from running, his golden hair still tied back, his blue eyes fixed on Alexander._

_Yes, he had loved John._

_No, it wasn't consensual. ('Liar, liar!' 'Is to protect him, idiot!' 'But he loved me too!')_

_Yes, he was a witch._

_No, he didn't believe in God._

_The croud didn't even gasp, at this point. Some nun grabbed John, and Alex pouted. He wanted John to be the last thing he ever sees._

_And John, John looked as if (this time, for real) Alexander was going to be gone. Forever._

_Maybe he was, mayb--_

 

* * *

 

 

"Alexander Harlem, you're scaring the shit out of me!", Thomas shook him one last time, before bouncing back to his spot under the tree, his eyes concerned

Alexander woke up to warm breeze and dry leaves, and he couldn't be happier. Or more disapponted, he wasn't sure.

"I was sleeping, Tommy.", he tried, his voice raspy from not using it; he coughed

"No you weren't.", James deadpanned, helpful as always, "You had that look on your face, like you were about to explode."

Thomas nodded and Alexander only sighed.

"Is it your witch shit again?", James asked, after a beat of silence

"I guess.", he really didn't want them to know a thing about this

That he was the Hamilton they studied in school, and that he was the one who put the curse on the town.

He only wanted one thing from this. And it was John.

Alexander had always known.

Maybe that was the reason why he always felt so lonely.

Thomas tried to hug him, and Alexander just let himself be hugged, and James chuckled.

Thomas and James.

Thomas Johnson was a good kid, now. Four hundred years ago, he was an asshole, and a big one. But Alexander didn't do well with hatred, at least not for people like Jefferson. Besides, Thomas Jefferon and Thomas Johnson were very different. Maybe because Thomas hadn't remembered yet.

Well, Alex wasn't going to be the jackass who told him. It would be... awkward. 

Thomas had dark skin, the kind of dark that made Alex want to make hot chocolate. And it was flawless. Alexander was full of freckles, some bigger than others. But Thomas didn't have any.

He was taller than Alexander. And than James (because even James was talles that Alexander). But Alex knew he was only taller because of his hair, full of black curls that went in every direction. 

James Maxwell was more confident than the James Madison. He hadn't remembered, neither, but he didn't really miss Madison. 

He was taller than Alexander (probably, only Peggy _wasn't_  taller than Alexander, and that freaking _hurt_ ). And had the same dark flawless skin Thomas had. His hair was full of short black curls, but brushed. He always looked good.

They had met while fighting Frederick, which was an... interesting way of meeting two of your former enemies and making them two of your best friends.

He opened his mouth, forming and 'O' with his lips, and blew out some air.

The air filled slightly with dark smoke, that smelled like the beach and bad decisions.

"My father thinks for real that you are smoking.", Thomas commented on it

And Alex shrugged.

"Would it make it better if you told him that I'm doing magic?"

James chuckled.

Alex closed his eyes again.

And then it hit him. 

With the force of an hurricane, flashes of freckles and curly hair and green hazel eyes shot through his skull, with such strength that he had to hold back tears, as he groaned.

He got up so fast that he felt dizzy and almost yanked Thomas up with him.

"What happened?" James asked, standing up as well, with Thomas

"N-Nothing.", he was stuttering, _stop_

John was here, _John was here--_

His breath caught up in his throat.

And he ran away from the back of the school, to his house.

He needed to do some reading.


	3. Scrappy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I guess--", but, before he was done, the boy was sprinting up the street again, "Hey, what's you name?", John yelled, but the boy didn't answer, just kept running, "Very well, John! You sure know how to creep out a cute boy when you see one, genius!", he slapped himself in the forehead, frustrated

When John woke up, his hair was out of his ponytail, because, apparently, he had been tossing and turning in his sleep. He felt curly bangs stuck to his forehead with cold sweat.

He felt gross, he felt frustrated, he felt a little bit scared and--

And empty.

So, so devastingly _empty_.

He knew this feeling all too well. 

He got up, upset with himself, and upset with his messed up head. 

He couldn't even remember what had happened this time. He just felt like he needed some time to readjust himself to reality. The world was _spinning._

John hurried down the stairs, stumbling at every turn. Everything was too hot.

"Mom, I'm going to take a walk!", he yelled, and before his mother could respond, he left

He almost slipped down the stairs outside and, God, he really didn't want to break a leg, but it seemed like destiny had other things planned.

John started walking down the street, and he didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

The cold air finally cooled his head down a bit.

He thought.

The dream, right.

Someone had been dragging that redhead all the way to the Tree's Hill-- There was a tree. There was a crowd, too. And the redhead looked at him, and he had violet eyes, who the Hell has violet eyes? 

And some sort of nun grabbed him by the arm, why was breathing becoming more and more difficult?

The redhead pouted.

 _'You're going to die and you pout, you stupid, stupid, dork.'_ , his mind supplied, in a voice that wasn't quite his  


The dream was far too vivid, and it made him feel nauseous. So, he stopped thinking about it. 

How long had he been walking?

Just as he tore his eyes from the pavement, his body crashed into another.

John took a couple of steps back, his mind dizzier than before.

The person who had collided with him, however, bounced back with such force they fell on their ass, with a choked "Ow!". John shook his head and looked down. 

It was, seemingly, a boy. He had dark brown hair, cascading down his back and over his shoulders, and looked exhausted from running.

"S-Sorry.", John tried

The boy looked up and was it possible to have such big and pretty eyes? They were brown, but more like chocolate brown, and he had tan skin (incredibly enough, there wasn't even a single ray of sunshine here) with little freckels, one of them right under his left eye, big enough to see, _and be super cute._

Okay, John really _didn't_ need a crush right now.

"Um--", shit, he had been staring, hadn't he, the other teen looked incredibly uncomfortable, "You okay?"

The boy shook his head.

"Yeah, sorry.", shit, his voice was _beatiful_ , John, _no_ , "Are _you_ okay? I was running pretty fast."

"Oh, yes, don't worry.", a beat of silence passed by and John swore thing couldn't get more awkward

"Well, I have to keep running.", the other boy looked down for a moment, "So, um, see you later?"

John blinked, utterly confused.

He knew this person. He knew this person, but he didn't, couldn't, remember why.

"I guess--", but, before he was done, the boy was sprinting up the street again, "Hey, what's you name?", John yelled, but the boy didn't answer, just kept running, "Very well, John! You _sure_ know how to creep out a cute boy when you see one, _genius!_ ", he slapped himself in the forehead, frustrated

John stuffed his hands in his pockets, suddenly very aware of the cold of the night. Because it was night, already. Shit.

Where had he come from? How was he supposed to go back home if he didn't even know where he lived?

He felt beyond stupid.

So, he turned around, trying to remember where he had come from.

* * *

_'Holy shit, holy shit, holy goddamned--',_ his mind was freaking racing, thoughts spinnig around and he needed to let out some stress, some magic, his heart beating rapidly, not even bombing enough blood.

He stopped running, and looked up at his house. A house too big for him, too big for his mother.

Alexander turned the front door knob, the wooden floor automatically creaking under his feet when he stepped into the house.

"Mom?", he asked

No answer.

He sighed and climbed the stairs up, until he reached the second floor. The short boy walked straight through the narrow hallway and stopped in front of the half closed door.

It started to smell funny.

"Mom?", he repeated, entering the room, "Are you awake?"

His mom sat up in bed, with a smile on her face and her dirty hair tied up in a ponytail. She still had dark circled under her eyes, but she was awake. That was good, she could be getting better. Alexander smiled wildly.

"Hi, sweetie, how was school?"

Alex stepped closer. One step forward.

"School starts in a week or so, Mom.", he informed

"Oh, sorry, honey. You know, me and dates, dates and me." she chuckled softly

Two steps forward.

"How are you?", the boy asked

"Good, better, thanks honey. Oh, where's James? I told him to go get some groceries this very morning, but I haven't seen him all day."

"Which James, Mom?"

One step backwards.

"Your brother, honey, what other James could I be talking about?", she smiled nervously

"Oh, he's fine, he's cleaning downstairs.", he lied, finally sitting on the bedside putting his hand on top of his mother's

"I'm sorry you two have to fend for youselves like that, 'Lex.", a beat, "Has you father returned yet, he went to wash the car--", she broke into a fit of rough coughs

"I think you should still rest, I'll bring you some tea with honey."

"Alexander, wait--"

But he was already closing the door behind him.

He raced downstairs, sniffing.

He made some tea and looked for honey, but there wasn't any. So he just added sugar, to avoid worrying his mother further.

His eyes hurt from all the tears he was holding.

He wanted the pain to go away.

His wrists itched.

_'Shut up, stupid, stupid--"_  


He ran upstairs, entering his mother's room again, left the tea on the little table next to the bed, then opened the window slightly. It smelled really bad. Like illness and hopelessness.

"Alexander.", his mother whispered, "I'm sorry. I want to help you, I really want to. But--"

"Mom, it's okay.", he hurried his words, wanting to leave the room and hating himself for it

"Your father is not returning from washing the car, is he?", his mother took the tea cup between her shaking hands and had a long sip

"I d-don't think s-so.", Alexander stammered,  _shut up, she was doing just fine, why do you always ruin everything with that big mouth of yours?_

"I'm sorry, Lex.", she simply said, "Did your brother leave with him?"

"No.", and Alexander really hoped he still wasn't crying

"Okay.", she left the cup on the table again, "You've found him, haven't you?", she smiled, and it was the weakest smile he had ever seen

"Found who?"

"Your John?"

Alexander inhaled a sharp breath.

"I think I might have.", he smiled, but inmediatly erased it from his face

"Go search come information about it, Merlin.", she stroked his hair, "And have a shower, you hear me? You teenagers, always so...  _unhealthy_."  


The boy chuckled.

"Go to sleep again, Rachel.", he joked

"Yes, Your Excellency.", she laughed, and lied back down on the bed, her eyes fluttering close from tiredness

He carressed her forehead.

"I love you, Mom."

* * *

"Where the Hell have you been? I was worried sick!", John's mother rushed to the front door, her hands making their way to her son's face, cupping both of his cheecks and squeezing him

"Mom, Mom, stop!", John tore his mother's arms away from his face carefuly, "I'm fine, I just needed some fresh air."

"Go to your room, and you are grounded until school starts!", she shouted, as John started climbing the stairs up, and the boy couldn't help but to roll his eyes

He jumped onto his bed, his eyes closing slowly, and his mind full of violet and chocolate browns.

**Author's Note:**

> So! I promise I'll make longer chapters, but I wanted to start with something short.  
> I didn't mention it in the tags, but Henry Laurens is actually pretty good in this, in case you were wondering.  
> Also, Francis Kinloch was like John Laurens first boyfriend, or something like that, historically, so of course I had to make him the mean ex-boyfriend, but don't worry, John's teenage angst bullshit won't last for long.  
> Last but not least, English is not my language, so sorry for any gramatical mistakes or things like that. I try.  
> ¡Hasta pronto!


End file.
